ened that she found so
many more injured things than ever before. But it never entered her
innocent head that Tony had searched the wood and meadow before she was
up, and laid most of these creatures ready to her hands, that she might
not be disappointed. She had not yet lost her faith in fairies, so she
fancied they too belonged to her small sisterhood, and presently it did
really seem impossible to doubt that the good folk had been at work.

Coming to the bridge that crossed the brook, she stopped a moment to
watch the water ripple over the bright pebbles, the ferns bend down to
drink, and the funny tadpoles frolic in quieter nooks, where the sun
shone, and the dragon-flies swung among the rushes. When Nelly turned
to go on, her blue eyes opened wide, and the handle of the ambulance
dropped with a noise that caused a stout frog to skip into the water
heels over head. Directly in the middle of the bridge was a pretty
green tent, made of two tall burdock leaves. The stems were stuck into
cracks between the boards, the tips were pinned together with a thorn,
and one great buttercup nodded in the doorway like a sleepy sentinel.
Nelly stared and smiled, listened, and looked about on every side.
Nothing was seen but the quiet meadow and the shady grove, nothing was
heard but the babble of the brook and the cheery music of the bobolinks.

"Yes," said Nelly softly to herself, "that is a fairy tent, and in it I
may find a baby elf sick with whooping-cough or scarlet-fever. How
splendid it would be! only I could never nurse such a dainty thing."

Stooping eagerly, she peeped over the buttercup's drowsy head, and saw
what seemed a tiny cock of hay. She had no time to feel disappointed,
for the haycock began to stir, and, looking nearer, she beheld two
silvery gray mites, who wagged wee tails, and stretched themselves as
if they had just waked up. Nelly knew that they were young field-mice,
and rejoiced over them, feeling rather relieved that no fairy had
appeared, though she still believed them to have had a hand in the
matter.

"I shall call the mice my Babes in the Wood, because they are lost and
covered up with leaves," said Nelly, as she laid them in her snuggest
bed, where they nestled close together, and fell fast asleep again.

Being very anxious to get home, that she might tell her adventures, and
show how great was the need of a sanitary commission in that region,
Nelly marched proudly up the avenue, and, havin